From Bombs to Businessman
by Little Redwood
Summary: We all have secrets in our past. Mike has one, he just thought everyone knew already. Mikexharvey BROMANCE
1. Uno

**This will be the prologue to a very long story. Expect steady updates with a few late ones. One to two a week sounds manageable, right? **

**I'm going to leave the pairing up to you. The options are as follows: DonnaxMike MikexHarvey MikexRachel MikexOFC MikexOMC and no pairing at all. Send me any suggestions you want. I'll put a poll up as well. Don't forget to vote!**

**This is a really crappy prologue. Excuse the crap this is. It just kind of sets the scene. And I'm all musey right now. Wee!**

**Summary: We all have secrets in our past. Mike has one, he just thought everyone knew already. **

**Disclaimer: Don't own it.**

**NOTE: I don't have anything planned for this. Leave a review if you want anything in this fic. Hell, write half a chapter for me and I'll include it somewhere. Seriously guys, PM me if you want anything done. Leave a review and I'll love you even more.**

**See you all~**

* * *

**Prologue**

**Business as usual**

He didn't tell anyone. It wasn't necessary. He thought they knew already. They ran background checks on him, didn't they? It wasn't relevant, anyways. He was working in a law firm, where he knew his place and followed the rules enough to avoid getting fired. Jessica tolerated him and Harvey liked him enough. There was no need to mention anything about his past. Not the nightmares or the flashbacks, and most definitely not the scars, both emotional and physical.

He was good at hiding it. He made sure to lean his phone against the wall of his cubicle, perfectly angled so he could spot someone behind him unintentionally (or intentionally) sneaking up on him. He made sure to let punches hit his lithe body. He let the Harvard douches beat on him, verbally and physically. He let Harvey call him scrawny, call him wimpy. He laughed with them, he didn't care, really. He had been called a wimp before. He kind of was, really. Compared to the other men he knew and worked with...

It didn't matter now. All that work of hiding it went down the drain. He slumped back, his shoulders hitting his couch with a dull thump. Letting out the lungful of air he didn't know he was holding in he let the piece of paper he had clenched in his hand fall to the rough fabric of the secondhand sofa. He didn't know what to do. At all.

He had been dreading this day since he dropped that briefcase. Dreading it like bad news from a doctor or a funeral. He knew it was coming. He wasn't out for good. Not yet. It was times like these where he regretted it. Screw the benefits. Screw it all! What about him? What about his life? How would he tell his friends?

Harvey had to know, Jessica as well. Donna knew everything so he wouldn't have to break the news to her. What about Rachel? Hell, all the associates would be desperate for answers the moment he starts packing up. When they found out he wasn't fired? Some would put the pieces together. Some wouldn't. Would he let them flounder about, not knowing what was going on?

He sighed, shaking his head. Standing up, he brushed out his suit pants, before grabbing his tie off of the back of a chair. It took four attempts to finally tie the object around his neck. His hands shaking, he grabbed his jacket. It took him a second to keep himself from collapsing as he reached. He closed his eyes, leaning against the wall for a moment, his shoulder shaking.

He bit his lip, drawing a blood. He couldn't go. Not after establishing himself at such a prestigious law firm, not after the drugs and the booze. Not after he came back so broken last time. Too broken to mend himself after only three years.

Too broken to heal at all, really.

He dialed the familiar number on his phone, calling a cab quickly before grabbing his messenger bag by the door. There was no way he could ride his bike to work. Not when he was so shaken up. Before he left, he grabbed the letter from the couch, shoving into his bag, wrinkling the front cover of a packet of briefs. For once, he hoped Harvey would berate him about it. He would have something else on his mind then, at least.

The cab came quickly and Mike slowly entered the vehicle, dreading the car ride much shorter than the bike ride. As the car rode through the thick traffic Mike took several deep breaths, calming down that shakes that plagued his hands. His heart continued to alternate between fluttering and bounding, leaving him with a lightheaded feeling. He visibly jolted when the car eased to a stop at a red light.

Ignoring the took the driver shot him, he looked out the window, watching as the tall building holding the law firm he worked at slowly grew clearer as they approached. It seemed as though every yard they grew closer his heard would pound a little harder.

After paying the driver, Mike quickly exited the car and made his way through security. The man at the door eyes his fidgety form for a moment before allowing him to pass. He made his way to the elevators, Pushing his way to the back of the car. He pressed his head against the back wall. He shut his eyes, ignoring any curious looks shot his way.

The car stopped several times, each time making Mike fidget some more. He was almost there. Almost on his floor, where he would have to show the letter that had somehow fallen to the bottom of his pile of bills, forgotten for a month and a half until now, just one week until he had to succumb to the horrid orders on the form.

The elevator dinged one last time and Mike's eyes snapped open. He walked past people he had learned to respect, avoiding eye contact. His shoes dragged against the floor slightly, not hard enough to scuff of make a sound, but enough to make him look as though he was up to something.

He arrived at Donnas desk, his hands trembling once more. Donna raised an eyebrow, her dark eyes looking him over, "Sweetie, you look like hell."

Mike's trembling increased, but he forced a smile, "I'm fine, Donna. I just didn't get much sleep last night. Zombie movie marathon on TV. Couldn't resist." He knew his smile faltered in the middle, and he knew Donna saw it, judging by the obvious frown gracing her dark lips. He dug through his bag, Pulling the briefs out. Brushing out the top page, he smiled sheepishly at Donna, who rolled her eyes before handing him a large stack of papers, which he happily grabbed out of her pale hands.

He shakily made his way to the cubicles, ignoring Donna's speculative look burning into the back of his head as though she had lasers shooting out of her dark pupils. Any other day and he would have turned around and shot the response back, stupid or not. Not today, however. Today he would work as long as he could until he was forced to meet with Jessica.

He plopped down into his seat, propping his phone up before turning his computer on. With a sigh he ran his long fingers through his hair, biting his lip as he did. His hair would suffer as much as his body...

As thoughts of his hair and his upcoming departure from the firm filled his mind, Donna grabbed some papers off of her desk, ready to shred them. As she made her way around her large (for a secretary) desk, she spotted a crumpled, smudged paper. Grabbing it off of the ground, she was surprised to spot a some sort of seal on the top corner. Knowing she should return it (or keep it as blackmail), she flattened it out as she walked. The moment the words rightened themselves she had to stop herself from dropping the papers in her hands from shock. Wide eyes gazed down at the worn paper in her arms, her fingers gripping the sheet as her eyes scanned over the dark words.

_I have the honor to report that you have been posted to join the 2nd Reconnaissance Battalion. You are to report to Lejeune marine corps base, North Carolina on the 4__th__ of..._


	2. Deux

**Alrighty. Another question for you guys. I can write long chapters or short chapters. Short chapters will be posted within one week of each other, while long chapters (about four times the size) will be posted every month and a half. Tell me which you would like.**

**I'm going to leave the pairing up to you. The options are as follows: DonnaxMike MikexHarvey MikexRachel MikexOFC MikexOMC and no pairing at all. Send me any suggestions you want. I'll put a poll up as well. Don't forget to vote!**

**Summary: We all have secrets in our past. Mike has one, he just thought everyone knew already.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it.**

**NOTE: I don't have anything planned for this. Leave a review if you want anything in this fic. Hell, write half a chapter for me and I'll include it somewhere. Seriously guys, PM me if you want anything done. Leave a review and I'll love you even more.**

**See you all~**

* * *

**Chapter one**

**Revelations**

Donna was the master at hiding her emotions. Since her childhood, she had perfected the art of alligator tears, the one weapon that makes every man fall to their knees. It had been a long time since she had to shroud her tears with a smile. A very, very long time. But now, as she stood in the copy room, her eyes cold as she read over the words on the letter over and over, she couldn't help but blink hard several times to fight the tears that threatened to leak.

Michael Ross. Their little puppy. Their _helpless_ puppy. She had known, of course. She knew he had been in the corps. Perhaps a cook, or working in an office. She didn't think much about it. Many kids in the firm worked office jobs in the military, just so their resume looked good. But a solider? The image of little Mike running through the desert, a gun in his hand, dressed in brown and tan camo, his face bloody and head shaved filled her head. Little Mikey, the charismatic, blue eyes boy that made her smile every time he quoted a movie, or pissed Harvey off, was going off to war. She paled at the thought of the boy fighting before. After all, this wasn't the first time he had been called. That much was obvious from the letter.

"Donna?"

Donna had to do everything in her power not the scream. Spinning around, she narrowed her eyes at Norma, who raised an eyebrow. "Christ, Norma," She breathed, "Scare a woman to death, why don't you?"

The pudgy woman rolled her ruddy brown eyes, "I've been standing here for a minute, Donna."

"So you've been watching me?"

"No," Norma gestured to the machine in front of her, "I need to shred."

Donna paused for a moment, the words swirling around in her mind for a moment, before she was able to unscramble the gibberish. She huffed snootily before striding off. The letter folded in her hands, she made her way to a place she was hardly ever seen: The Bullpen.

**.**

It took Mike exactly thirty-three minutes and seven seconds to realize his letter was missing. He had searched through his bag twice, his desk thrice, and his pockets six times, at least. He was about to get up and search the floors and elevator when a hand grabbed his shoulder. He jumped a mile high, only barely resisting the urge to swing his arm around. He must have moved his phone when he was searching.

"Harvey's office. Now."

Donna.

He thanked his quick thinking for not punching her. That would have ended horribly (He was thinking castration or decapitation). He smiled at her, his pristine teeth gleaming in the fluorescent light of the firm in spite of his pounding heart, "Hey Donna. Odd finding you here. What'd I do now? Is it about the Brief cover?"

Donna didn't respond. One sculpted eyebrow shot up, before she held out a piece of folded letter. His heart stopped beating as he nodded, his face paling. Of all the people in this firm who could have found his god damned letter, it had to be one Donna Paulsen. Donna, the gossiper, the sly manipulative Donna. The woman closest to Harvey. His heart stopped. _What if... Shit! She told him. I'm dead. My head will be rolling. I'll be a goner, before some Bin-Laden wannabe can shoot me in the face. I'll be killed by Harvey Specter. He'll put my head on his windowsill, like all of his basketballs. I wonder if he'll have me sign my forehead before he decapitates me._

He only realized he had arrived when the redhead snapper manicured fingers into his busy planning his own death, he hadn't noticed the absence of the 'best goddamn closer in the city' when he entered the coming to, Mike turned to Donna, his brows furrowed, "Where's Harvey? Wait, He had a meeting this morning, didn't he? He wasn't in when I got here..."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Her voice was sharp, as if she were accusing him of some horrible crime, not asking some simple question, like why he had kept the truth from them.

"Tell you what?" he asked, feigning oblivious as her eyes narrowed. His heart pounded against his ribcage, leaving him breathless.

"God damn it Mike! Don't play stupid! I know about the letter, you dropped it by my desk when you gave me those crappy briefs. Why didn't you tell us earlier? Two months ago you-"

"I didn't know I had the letter two months ago. I found it this morning when I was trying to actually get my rent in on time for once. It was under some bills. Swear," His voice was soft, as though he didn't know if what he was saying was the right thing. He honestly didn't know. What was going to happen to him. Donna seemed livid, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you... I was going to tell you all tonight." He knew Harvey was going to spend a late night at the office. It was a Tuesday. It was bound to happen. Tuesdays were always late days.

"Jesus Christ Michael. Are you that stupid?" Her words were hissed, as though she was trying with all her might to prevent some sort of outburst. Mike wasn't surprised. The entire situation was turning out better than he had anticipated, really. Much better.

"Stupid? What do-"

"I know you aren't stupid. You've managed to fool everyone in this goddamn firm. But this? How did this not come up in any conversation? How the hell did we manage to miss the fact that you moonlight as a gun slinging marine? Let me guess, you were running from some cops when you hid in a recruitment center. After dropping a pile of weed, Sergeant Asshole promised not to turn you into the police if you enlisted?" Her tone was sharp and sarcastic, a tone he had never heard escape Donna. Quite honestly, it feared the blue eyes man.

"Donna, I-"

"Don't, Mike," she warned, her voice softer than it had been a few seconds ago. She pulled the letter out of her pocket, slamming it on the desk with a look that could kill. Mike shielded away from her, baring his neck to the point where his chin almost hit his shoulder. His eyes downcast, he looked like a beaten puppy, waiting for his master to kick him once more.

Donna took pity on the boy. With narrowed eyes, she clenched onto his shoulder, her fingers digging into the fabric below the manicured nails, "Mike. You need to tell him. It'll be easier on him if he hears if from you, not Jessica, or me."

Mike nodded slightly, refusing to meet her eyes. She grabbed his cheek, forcefully wrenching the boy's head up, forcing him to look her in the eye. Brown battled with blue wildly, the colors dancing with emotion. He broke eye contact for a moment, but returned it when the hand tightened, "You're a marine, Mike, not a pussy. Look a god-damned woman in the eye when she's screaming at you."

Mike chuckled half-heartedly, letting out a crooked smile, "Hoo-rah..."

Donna was about to speak, her mouth open and her tongue ready when a voice resounded around the room.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

Harvey.

Both woman and boy froze, their eyes moving to gaze at Harvey as he leaned against the doorframe, his hands in his pockets as he watched them with a sculpted eyebrow raised. Mike coughed, backing up and grabbing the letter from Harvey's desk. He grinned, shaking his head, "Just getting yelled at for the briefs. I'll fix them when I'm done with the Nikolai briefs."

Harvey's eyes narrowed, catching onto the brief micro expression that crossed his associate's face for a twenty-eighth of a second. Fear. He played along; however, knowing the only way to extract info from his puppy was a lot of praise and a good treat. Something was up, something big enough to leave Donna pale and obviously frazzled. Not even Harvey could get her to look like that on a good day.

"Finish both brief packets and I'll buy pizza tonight."

Mike grinned at the man, nearly running out of the room, Donna hot on his heels. The well-groomed man was fast, however, and was able to block the door right after Mike had left.

"Nuh uh, Donna. You're going to tell me what's up with the puppy."

"Oh, really?" She replied innocently, her eyelashes batting, "I thought you didn't care about him,"

"I don't," Harvey spoke, as though he was trying to convince himself as well as Donna, "but it's getting in the way of his work, and I don't like that."

"It won't matter soon enough, don't worry about it."

* * *

**So... this is it. Tell me what you think in reviews! How about a deal. If I get fifteen reviews I'll post the next chapter. If not, then you'll have to wait an entire week.**

**Let's try a reward system. Every Twenty reviews I get on this story and I'll write a oneshot with a 1k-3k work count. The person who leaves the best reviews will pick the pairing of the oneshot and the plot.**


	3. Drei

**Now I am a firm believer in the art of publicly embarrassing people who are complete idiots. So, I'll post a review some guest posted.**

_"Holding stories for ransom only makes me stop reading. That desparate for praise-go to your mommy"_

**First of all, you spelled desperate wrong. Second, a comma would go after praise, not a hyphen. Oh, and a period goes after mommy. Thirdly, I am not holding this story for ransom. If you had any sort of intelligence inside of that brain you hopefully have you'd realize that I have set a date that the chapter will be posted. Every chapter will be posted on a Monday. There is an exception though. It's 15 reviews or Monday. If 15 people review my story, giving me some sort of constructive criticism or praise, I'll post the chapter early. So, I am not holding anything ransom. I'm just offering a fast pass. Ten seconds of your time to add some sort of critique to my work, or just saying you're still reading along, and in return, I'll post the chapter early. I'm not desperate for praise. I want things that make the story better. I appreciate a sentence of critique or insult much more than one of praise. Lastly, I'd like to point out that you're being cowardly, posting under a guest. If you want to insult me please try a little harder. I have four older brothers; I'm pretty hard to crack.**

**P.S.: If you're so desperate for attention that you felt compelled to write something so dimwittedly stupid then I think you should be the one crying to your mommy. **

**Anyways!**

**Now I can get to you all :D So, this is chapter two. I love you ALL! This story is turning out better than I had hoped. Remember to leave reviews or PM me with ideas.**

**ALSO! PLEASE READ THIS!**

**I love involving my readers. Because of this I'll be allowing people to submit characters to me to use while Mike is overseas. Any character I get (within reason) will be put into the story somehow. **

**Remember my 15 or Monday rule! I love you all!**

**Disclaimer: don't own it.**

**Warnings: In this chapter? Um... angsty mike? I dunno.**

**Don't forget to vote for your character. Currently HarveyxMike and no pairing are neck and neck. I'm thinking of making it a no pairing fic but adding some bromance between them. What do you all think?**

**Ah, I've written a page long note. I'll let you read the story now! OH! I cannot express how happy the speed of the reviews came in! Like promised, the next chapter!**

**Enjoy~**

**Chapter 2**

**Forgiven but not Forgotten**

It was cold. Barren trees swayed in the strong wind, their naked branches pounding together like a chaotic drum line. Snow rose from the ground and buffeted anything in its path, splintering even the strongest of trees and turning the largest of skyscrapers to flailing structures, ready to fall at any moment.

Mike sat in Harvey's office, the cold wind stinging his cheek, which pressed against the freezing glass overlooking Manhattan. Long lashes batted against tan cheeks as he sat alone, his ears picking up every flaw in the blues record playing softly in the corner. He watched as a man and a woman wan down the street, hand in hand as though they would lose each other if they let go. They turned the corner, the woman slipping slightly before the man caught her, pecking her lips (cheek?) before they continued down the sidewalk.

Mike wished he could have something like that. He wished he could wake up In someone's arms, he wished he could sneak into midnight movies and kiss in the rain. It was a silly notion, really. He had a job that devoured his life, destroying any chance of a relationship. He had Rachel, but that had fallen apart as quickly as it had developed. That, and the fact that he would spent the next eight months in the middle if the desert, hiding from terrorist and camel spiders. Those goddamned camel spiders.

The door to the glass office opened, the soft sound of heels clicking across the floor before a hand was placed on Mike's shoulder. He looked over, brown eyes meeting blue. A silent conversation passed between them. Donna's caring look clashed with Mikes tentative one. A silent apology. Michael nodded carefully, softly enough to seem nearly invisible to anyone who wasn't close enough to count the pale freckles on his nose. In truth, Mike had never been mad at the woman. Scared, yes. Apologetic? Absolutely. But not mad. Donna smiled, her lips quirking upwards slightly, "I overreacted a little bit, didn't I?"

Mike shrugged, his muscled, yet thin shoulders bobbing once before they returned to their slumped position, "Not that much. I deserved a bit of a lecture. I won't be hiding anything from you in the near future. Unless, of course, the secret's hidden beneath my bills again. Can't help you then."

Donna's eyes twinkled in amusement. For a pathetic puppy wallowing in his own self pity he was still a cute puppy, with just enough cheese in his jokes to make them adorable. He grinned lazily at her before looking out the window again, "What do you think he'll do?"

"Don't worry sweetie. Harvey won't be too mad. Say it how you told me and make sure to apologize a bit more. Make sure he's not too drunk, alright? He isn't the best to rationalize with when he's on his fourth cup of scotch."

Mike nodded, sighing as Donna carded her hand through his hair a few times, as though he really was a lost puppy, looking for any bit of affection he could. The woman sighed, "good luck."

She moved to leave, only to nearly fall when a strong hand grasped at her wrist. Blue eyes wide, Mike looked like a frightened doe, staring into the headlights of an apathetic driver, determined to play chicken with the small creature. "You're leaving?"

Donna sighed, "Mike, this is between you and Harvey. If I were to be there he would get mad. Harvey hates being the last to know."

"He's only the second person to know," he commented lightly.

"Same thing to Harvey," she smiled, shaking her head, "Good luck Mikey."

She was met with a fearful glace and a hesitant nod. She squeezed his shoulder one more time before walking out. Mike felt the cold air from the outside freeze his skin but he still didn't care. He sat there, his heart pounding and hands trembling until Harvey walked in, looking chic as ever in his three-thousand dollar three piece suit. He removed his jacket, leaving him in his vest and shirt. Mike felt envy creep through his chest. He could never be as muscular as his boss. Even after a year and a half of rigorous training in every weather and terrain he could imagine. Even as a toughened solider he wasn't as muscular as his boss. A _lawyer_.

He faked a grin at the brown eyed man, who placed the cheesy-crust pizza (how Mike could eat an entire large pie of it still astounded the man) on the table. He moved to his desk, pouring himself some brandy before pausing, turning to his associate with a look reminiscent of a mother about to scold a child.

"Did you touch my records?"

Blonde hair fell into Mike's eyes as he shook his head. He would have reminded himself to cut it any other day, but since it was going to be buzzed in two weeks he didn't bother.

"Oh really," The lawyer seemed torn between suspicious and amused, "Tell me, pup. Who the hell touched my record player? If it wasn't you, that is."

"Donna did it." The phrase sounded childish coming out of Mike's mouth. He bit his lip, smiling slightly as he thought back to the many times he had blamed friends and animals for broken things. He had once blamed a cat for breaking a plate. He has been so convincing that his parents never punished him. Probably from the hilarity of the entire story the four year old came up with.

"Donna?" He pursed his lips, fighting a smile, "I'll have to have a word with her, then."

Mike nodded adamantly, "She's trouble, that one. She's a little imp," Mike snickered, shoving half of a slice into his mouth. Harvey wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"You know, there's this thing called chewing. Normal people do it all the time. What you do, is you take a small bite of the food, before chewing it about fifteen times. Then you swallow. Come on, genius. Clear the useless shit out of your brain and fill it with manners. And maybe a little class as well."

Mike replied by shoving a huge chunk of pizza in his mouth before chewing dramatically, swallowing before grabbing another piece of pizza. Harvey snorted, going back to his work as Mike shot him a certain finger. Harvey laughed, looking up from his work, "No thank you, pup. I prefer humans over lost puppies, and especially over pigs. Get back to your pizza, then work."

Harvey was a bit of a snob. Although, with the slobbish tendencies of his associate, they fit quite well. Mike reminded the closer to eat while Harvey reminded his associate to sleep. Many thought them oil and water, so opposite they couldn't mix. In reality, they were magnets. So opposite they attracted perfectly, feeding off of each other's strengths and weaknesses to form something stronger and more efficient than a well oiled machine.

"Get one fingerprint of grease on anything and I'll ban that pizza for good."

Mike swallowed thickly, coughing slightly before nodding. Harvey shot him a pointed look before returning to his briefs, his glass of brandy already almost empty. Mike's wiped his hands on his suit pants (they were black, so according to Mike it was okay) before moving off of the floor to sit on the couch. He leaned forward, rolling his sleeves up before resting his arms on his knees. Looking up at Harvey, he swallowed once more.

"Hey, Harv'? I need to talk to you," His voice was soft, tentative and a little shaky. Enough to capture Harvey's mild attention.

"We're in the same room, talk all you want, kid."

"No," Mike sighed, running a hand through his now messy hair, "It's important Harvey. It's... Just listen okay?"

That tone was something he had never heard before. It was a mixture of fear and sadness. He had heard the boy speak with both tones separately, but never at the same time. The words escaped the boy making him seem delicate, childish almost. It bothered Harvey. His associate was tough as nails, not tough as a goddamned pillow. Harvey rose from his seat, moving to lean against the front of his desk, facing Mike with a raise eyebrow, "Alright, Mike. Spit it out. I've got files to look through on the-"

Mike's next words echoed through the room softly. The volume mattered not to the residents in the room. What mattered was the tone. The soft, yet strong tone that held such adamancy that one couldn't claim them false. And for one more time that night, deep, shocked brown met crystalline, hard blue, the colors bright against the city light that shone into the relatively dark office.

The wind howled, the cold air whistling across the windows as though it was singing. The sound was loud, but not loud enough to block out the strong sound of Mike's voice, still echoing in the silent room.

"I'm leaving."

**I love leaving chapters off like this.**

**That was it, folks! Thank you all for reviewing my lovely story! Remember, 15 or Monday!**

**Submit your Oc and make sure to leave a wonderful review! **


	4. Shi

**Okay... keeping this promise seems a little difficult. You all review so fast! I posted two chapters in one night, which is horrid! I mean, how am I going to keep up? I'd have to post three times a day! That's why this is late. Let's see. If I get to twenty five new reviews, which is entirely possible I'll post. If not, Monday.**

**Nothing much to say this time, really. I love you all! Make sure to add an OC. I need them for chapter seven.**

**NOTE! PAIRING!**

**I have decided to leave this as a bromance-brotherly love fic between Harvey and Mike. What I will do, however, is create a oneshot series involving those two in this universe, totally separate from this. Look for it this weekend or next.**

**Just a warning, I'm not super well versed with everything military. A lot of this might be wrong. It if is, please POLITELY correct me. Wikipedia can only tell me so much.**

**PS: To the guest who left this review:**

_And I thought he was a government agent... Because I'm a little slow, you're going to have to spell this out for me: soldier (Navy, Marines, Rangers, etc.) or agent? Or sumthin' else entirely?  
Lejeune? I thought it was Legion?_

**Lejeune is the name of the base.**

**Disclaimer: don't own it.**

**Chapter 3**

**It Isn't Just a river in Egypt**

Mike had never been good when it came to handling silence. He would shift and move, fiddle with fingers and tap his feet. The roaring silence tortured him. In truth, he'd rather listen to a boring audio book than listen to silence. Even living alone, in his shitty apartment, he always had the tv on, the voices of whatever was on sounding through the paper thin walls.

In spite of the blues record playing in the corner, Mike felt the familiar presence of silence collect him in it's embrace. And for once, Mike began to feel at home with it. He would rather have silence, as opposed to any sort of yelling or screaming. He hated screaming more than silence.

"Leaving?" Harvey let out a dry laugh, "Like hell you are. You still have to look over the Anderson files. Not to mention the fact that you didn't file that subpoena for the McD-"

"No Harvey. I'm not leaving right now," he swallowed thickly, his hazy, sorrowful, deep blue eyes meeting the confused, clear dark brown counterparts several yards away. This was it. There was no turning back, no avoiding it anymore. He let out a shuddering breath, "I- Harvey I'm not going to be coming to work for a while."

"What?" His tone was sharp, accusatory. Harvey had a bad habit of playing oblivious when someone broke bad news to him. He had done it with his mother, and his brother, and now, as Mike declares some sort of termination of his employment. "Let me get this clear," Harvey rose from his spot leaning against the desk, his eyes narrowed, "You're leaving the firm? After everything I've done for you, you're just going to leave?"

Mike hesitated, shifting, "I was going to tell you earlier, but you were at a meeting and I didn't want to interrupt, then I kind of wimped out. I didn't know until today, I swear! I just-"

"Mike!" Harvey's voice was raised, the noise booming, "I've never been patient. You know that. So you're going to stop mumbling and you're going to stop apologizing and you're going to tell me what's going on."

Harvey's voice was met with a trembling hand, holding a folded sheet of paper. With narrowed eyes, Harvey snatched the paper from his hands, opening it. Dark eyes scanned over the letter detailing Mike's recruitment, before his eyes met Mike's. He looked down at the letter again, rereading it three more times before breaking the silence.

"This-"The words escaping Harvey's mouth broke through the silence, loud, yet the confidence that usually rung in the words had suddenly vanished, alongside the silence."Mike. This- This can't be true. You're messing with me, right?"

Mike shook his head, "Harvey, look I'm so-"

"Sorry? Sorry?! This is bullshit, Mike! Who made this for you?" The words were laced with disbelief, as though the entire thing was a joke, "I mean, you're... This can't be possible. You're a puppy, weak and helpless. You're no Captain America.

"Harvey, I'm not lying. This isn't a joke," Mike sighed, rubbing his hands on his pants, before rising to his feet. He unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt, grasping onto a long chain before pulling it off from around his neck. He handed the necklace, the two tags dangling from the metal chain.

Harvey looked down at the dogtags in his hand. They were dented in once place, and the shine had long since dulled to a dull sheen. They had obviously been worn for a long while, and judged by the bleached color of the once-black silencers that surrounded the two tags, they were somewhere hot and sunny. Harvey had to clench his fist to keep the long digits from trembling. He looked up at Mike, his brows furrowed.

"Mike, you-"

"I always wear them. Habit, really. I'm surprised you've never seen them before. It's not like I really make an effort to hide them."

He wore them every day? Harvey was taken aback. The two tags were big enough to see through some shirts, how had he not seen them before that day? He had to be really unobservant, something he prided himself in not being. Mike interrupted his thoughts, "Ask me anything, Harvey. I'll answer all of your questions to the best of my ability."

"To the best of your ability?" Harvey wasn't sure, but he was pretty sure the kid had a decent memory.

"Some things are confidential."

Harvey moved, grabbing his brandy before taking a long, hard gulp. He would need the alcohol. He ignored that fact that he had just swallowed a good seventy dollars on one sip alone and focused his eyes at Mike, "Why didn't you tell us?"

Mike sighed, leaning back. He had gotten through the worst of it. He had gotten through the stages of revelation. Humor-filled denial, frightened denial, shock, anger and finally, actualization. Harvey almost sat down next to the boy, but decided against it. He looked down at the tags in his hand, gleaming like small silver trophies.

"I-" Mike shrugged, his eyes avoiding the entire figure that was his muscular boss, instead opting to look out the window, "I don't know. I mean, I thought you knew. It's not hidden or anything. And you didn't bring it up so I didn't. In all honestly, I didn't know how. I didn't want to either. It wasn't the best time of my life."

Harvey understood. It made sense, as much as he hated to admit it. Mike wasn't one to kiss and tell. The only reason he knew his parents died was because he used the fact when working with a client. Hell, he didn't even tell Harvey that his grandmother died! He hated thinking that Mike thought he didn't care, but he wasn't going to turn into a fuzzy care bear who sat in a circle, passing a taking stick around just to please his easygoing associate. Deciding the answer was enough, he asked another simple question, "When did you enlist?"

"Eighteen."

"...why?"

"I was a kid. I thought enlisting would make me manly or something. I honestly don't remember anymore." Harvey knew he remembered, but didn't push it too much. It was an obvious lie, but ignored that as well.

"How can you be a marine and still be so..."

"Small?"

"..."

"Don't think I'm weak. I may be a puppy but I'm a goddamned bulldog. I'm pretty agile and I can hold my own against people twice my size."

Harvey wondered if he knew that from experience. He sighed, "How long?"

"Well I enlisted when I was-"

"Mike."

A look was traded between them before Mike sighed, "I leave next Saturday."

"Get to work, then. I don't want a single case still open by the time you leave."

Mike smiled at the man. Shock, perhaps. He let out a lazy salute, grinning.

"Aye Aye, captain."

* * *

**That's it. Sorry for the crappiness. Sorry for spelling. i'll fix it tonight. i didn't want to keep you all waiting.**

**Submit your OC!**


	5. Cinq

**I'm sorry for the delay. School has been killer. I'm more stressed than Mike. And that's saying something. Because the kid is going to get gray hairs.**

**Any who, Make sure to R&R. I promise that the next update won't be late. **

**MAKE SURE TO POST YOUR ANSWER TO THE FOLLOWING QUESTION:**

**How much of Mike's time in the middle-east should I write? Or should I skip it all and do flashbacks?**

**Disclaimer: I am disclaiming.**

**Oneshot series is coming out soon. Followed by a new story of mine! Check the bottom for a sneak peek of my new story. It's interesting to say the least.**

**Enjoy my late, horrible story! Don't kill me for being so late!**

**25 and an early chapter!**

**3,**

**Red**

Mike was hung-over. Not just hung-over, but hung-over after drinking half a bottle of tequila, the only liquor he could find in his shitty apartment. He was up to his neck in things he needed to file, print, scan, and edit, and didn't know how he would finish it all before he had to leave. And to top it all off, the four caplets of painkillers he had taken were washed down by a nice big cup of coffee, just adding to the horrible Hangover, Caffeine high, exhausted state he was in.

Just a typical day at work for Mike Ross.

He sighed, running his highlighter over another series of lines, marking them so Harvey could read through it. He tried to ignore his pounding head as he did so, but it was to no avail, as the strong scent of overpriced, men's cologne filled his nostrils. He pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouse, willing himself not to vomit. It wouldn't have ended well if he did.

"Mike, great to see you've returned from Harvey's lap," Louis sneered, his nasally voice making Mike's headache worse as seconds passed, "I need you to file the Mcallaster briefs for me. Then, you need to start on the Rozen case. The court date is set in three weeks and I expect you to-"

"I can't"

"Be there at... Excuse me?" Louis' voice seemed to raise a few notes as he realized Mike had spoken.

"I can't work on the Rozen case. I'll file the briefs but that's all I'll do for you." His voice was cold, no emotion displayed in the words that should have held a little sympathy, especially when talking to a boss.

"And why the hell can't you? Don't tell me it's Harvey. How many times do I have to tell you that you don't just work for him, you work for me as well! I ought to have a word with him. You know, he's just so-"

"I can't do them, Louis," Mike sighed, remembering the way Harvey reacted. Denial, anger, realization. Mike stopped highlighting the paragraph he was working on and looked up at the illegitimate senior partner, "because I won't be here in three weeks."

Silence, when left to be the communicator between two complicated forces, was said to be comfortable. It could translate the earnest emotions, more so than even words. Some silence was good, especially for the fool who garbled nonsense and spoke around the foot in his mouth. However, the same soothing peace could be decoded as nothing more than absolute nothingness. It was the noise of the dead, of the liar, and of the fearful. More often than not, silence was the trigger to thought, for it left nothing to block out reflection on the past, present and future. Good and bad, light and dark, power and weakness; it was in contemplation that one chose how to proceed.

This silence was treacherous.

Every associate in the bullpen turned to stare at the argument. While they all listened with half an ear every time Mike decided to take a stand against the 'dictator', this time, it was all eyes, all ears, every associate. Mike ran his hand over his face, looking up into the beady eyes that stared at him so intensely.

"Vacation, or..."

"I'm fulfilling obligations I had before I was at the firm. God willing, I'll be back eventually."

"God Will-" Louis shook his head, letting out a dry laugh, "Mike cut the shit."

"Louis, can we discuss this in your office?"

The ratty man let out a laugh, the nasally sound making Mike's sensitive ears ring slightly. He winced looking up at the man as he spoke, "Just say it here, Ross. Or did you master tell you to keep a secret?"

"Harvey didn't tell me anything," Mike snapped, "I just thought it would be nice to give you my letter of temporary leave in person, instead of handing it to you in front of your flying monkeys. But, since you've insisted." Mike dug into his desk, grabbing the envelope hidden under some briefs. He handed the folded paper to Louis, letting go of it the moment the older man's hand wrapped around it. "I've been called back overseas. I'll be reporting to Lejeune on the fourth."

"Overseas? Wait, isn't Legeune a military base?" The look on Louis' face conveyed confusion. Confusion and shock. He saw Kyle and another associate glance at each other in the corner of his eyes. Mike was surprised for a moment that Louis actually knew what the base was.

"A marine base, yeah. Which is why the Rozen case isn't something I can do for you."

Louis remained silent for a moment. He opened his mouth, before closing it again, as if he was deciding against something he was going to say. He seemed to bounce on his heels for a moment, before speaking, "You're kidding, right? We're lawyers. We're the top of the top, the Kobe, not the Angus."

"The what? Louis, I was a marine before I was a lawyer."

Wheels in Louis' mind seemed to be turning. Suddenly, bushy black brows curled into each other, and Louis narrowed his eyes, looking at Mike with an accusatory look, "How were you a marine _and_ a Harvard student at the same time?"

Mike could feel his heart enter his throat, eyes wide, he was about to mutter some lame excuse when a hand landed on his shoulder.

"Louis, go bother an associate who doesn't have an expiration date."

_Harvey. _

Mike looked over his shoulder, meeting the dark brown eyes of his mentor. His gaze flickered back to Louis, who sniffed, "What, Mike? Your prince charming has to come save you every time you're in distress?"

"Isn't that how the stories always go?" Harvey turned to Mike, who looked at the older man, relief evident in his baby blues, "I needed the Dumont files done half an hour ago."

Mike turned quickly, looking through his messy desk before pulling out a large manila folder and a smaller green one, "Here, I finished the Anderson briefs as well. The loopholes I found are circled."

"Good boy. Grab whatever you're working on today and take it with you. If you can't work in the playground with the little kids without a rat squeaking at you, you can work in my office."

Mike bit his lip to keep from smiling as he gathered his highlighters and folders, ready to spend a nice day with someone who wouldn't assault him with questions.

**That's it. I know, crappy. But bear with me. He'll deal with the associates in the next chapter. Two more before Mike kills some terrorists! **

**REMEMBER THE NEW POLL. **

**How much of Mike's time in the middle-east should I write? Or should I skip it all and do flashbacks?**


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